


Simple Request

by zxrycyan



Category: Naruto
Genre: Bad Flirting, Humour, Kakashi being an asshole, M/M, fluff-ish, i.e. Kakashi being Kakashi, mission
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-11
Updated: 2016-07-11
Packaged: 2018-07-22 21:37:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,790
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7454776
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zxrycyan/pseuds/zxrycyan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Iruka did not wake up at four in the morning for a mission like this and a jounin outside the door.</p><p>(“Alright,” Iruka said with false calm, “any other bombs to drop before I pinch myself to confirm that this isn’t a dream?’’</p><p>Kakashi began to shake his head no, before an extremely smug expression slowly crawled across his face. </p><p>“No bombs left,” he said, smirking, “unless I drop you.”)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Simple Request

**Author's Note:**

> Hah, just some inane bad humour on my part. Hope you enjoy!

It all started with a simple request that, for all purposes, seemed utterly innocent and completely free of any sort of “underneath the underneath” layers to look under.

“Do you want to go on a mission with me?”

Iruka had not gotten out of bed at four in the morning expecting something like _this._ He stared disbelievingly at the crazy jounin (jounin were, by principle, all batshit _insane_ ) standing outside his apartment and closed the door in his face.

This had to be somebody’s idea of a sick joke.

He was mildly pleased to hear the door thump against an appendage, followed by a gasp of pain and a curse. He’d probably regret signing his own death sentence a little later in the day, but right now the sun had not risen, so all worries and such were inevitably postponed for a while.

Iruka flopped back onto his futon and was asleep within seconds. Dealing with little rascals was a trade secret to conking out the moment your head hit the pillow.

Unfortunately, it also made you very unprofessionally susceptible to pranks that are at all higher-leveled than pre-genins’ idea of a wake-up call. 

Hence, fortunately for Iruka, he snapped awake and rolled off his futon with his pillow clutched to his chest, just in time for a jug of ice water to splash all over where he had just been lying.

He stared up at the silver-haired man’s disappointed-looking eye, and the first thing that occurred to him was, “You’re as bad as my ten-year-olds.”

The jounin grinned, and sketched a cheeky bow. “Glad to be of service.”

Half a beat later, Iruka jumped up, looking scandalized and appropriately angry.

“How the hell did you get into my house?!”

“I broke in, of course,” he said, completely unrepentant, and added, “Through the window.”

The whole left side of Iruka’s face twitched in response. “And why…” he growled dangerously, “did you _break into_ someone’s house?”

“You never gave me your answer,” Kakashi answered nonchalantly, as though it explained everything.

In a way that only jounin who were utterly, shamelessly off their rockers could see, it made perfect sense. To a teacher who constantly dealt with kids that _naturally_ lacked any sort of sanity, it made a very twisted sort of sense. Though that, in no way, meant that Iruka had to accept it.

“Was the door slamming in your face not answer enough for you and the few screws loose in your head?”

The silver-haired man hummed non-committedly, and asked, “Was that a yes or a no or a maybe so?”

“That was _clearly,”_ Iruka enunciated the words with barely-contained frustration, “a ‘get the hell away from here _right now’_.”

Kakashi seemed unperturbed. “You still haven’t answered the question, you know.”

Iruka furrowed his brows, three parts bewildered and seven parts incredulous. “You really weren’t joking?”

It was the jounin’s turn to frown. “Why would I be?"

“It’s four in the morning,” Iruka gestured at the clock to emphasize his point. “It can’t be anything other than a joke. _”_

“Rule thirty-seven of the shinobi law: _be prepared at all times, anytime, to serve your people and protect your village,_ ” Kakashi recited dutifully.

The chuunin rubbed his temples and tried to dissipate the oncoming migraine.

“Fine,” he agreed, exasperated, “I’ll go with you on your little expedition.”

Kakashi beamed triumphantly.

* * *

 

“Why exactly,” Iruka groaned, trudging along the dirt path as the sun rose slowly in the east, “did you have to break into my house at such an ungodly hour?”

Kakashi’s one visible eye twinkled mischievously. “I have a reputation to maintain.”

“A reputation?”

“Yeah, I always have to be late, remember?”

Iruka resisted the urge to face palm or, better yet, smash a kunai into the jounin’s head. Unfortunately, that was ill advised, since the kunai would never connect and he’d also probably never wield a weapon again. So he settled simply for pointing out, “You just ruined your reputation by being so _early_ this morning.”

“Ah.” Kakashi looked momentarily stumped. Iruka gave himself a congratulatory mental pat on the back. _Iruka – 1, Kakashi – 0._

Then the infuriating man continued, looking incredibly, sadistically amused, “Why didn’t you just tell me that you preferred me being late? I’m sure the client would appreciate that.”

Iruka barely managed not to throw his hands up in the air and just stomp off with crossed arms and a pout on his face. There were certain downsides to not being a child, and one of them was not acting childish.

He glanced at the crinkled eye-smile on the jounin’s face, and gave up on maintaining his as of yet still dignified image.

“Whatever,” he conceded with a fearsome scowl that could rival a sulky eight-year-old’s, “you do _whatever_ you like. See if I care.”

Then he harrumphed and turned away, feeling downright ridiculous but unable to stop himself. The faint chuckle that Kakashi let out, however, made a strange sort of warmth spread from his chest outwards, and he figured he really did enjoy making others laugh. The only experience he usually ever had was with little kids, but he supposed it could stretch to include insufferable pricks and shinobi with higher ranking than him as well.

It’s _possible._

He still didn’t understand why Kakashi picked him for this mission, though. Surely there were other chuunin available on the roster. It didn’t make any sense to pick an Academy sensei who hadn’t bothered to improve his skills much more beyond teaching more effectively.

“Why didn’t you choose some other chuunin? There are many who are trained more in combat than I am, so aren’t they more qualified for this?”

At Kakashi’s elegantly raised eyebrow, he continued, stumbling a little as he struggled to explain himself, “I mean, I won’t, um, purposely fail this mission or anything but I haven’t been on a mission for nearly half a year and- Well. I’m just a sensei. There’re others way better suited for this than I am.”

He paused, and finished rather lamely, “So, yeah. Why me?”

There was a pregnant silence that followed, and Iruka was just about to open his mouth and say that it’s fine if Kakashi didn’t answer, he probably had his reasons as team leader and jounin and whatnot that Iruka didn’t need to know about, when Kakashi interrupted with a crinkled eye, “Fishing for compliments are we, _sensei?_ ”

Iruka’s eye twitched at the same time that a furious blush took over his cheeks. He was certain Kakashi was smirking underneath his mask. He practically radiated smirk.

Then Kakashi’s expression sobered a little – or, well, as far as a single eye can sober – and he looked thoughtful for a second. “I don’t really know myself-”

“You don’t know?” Iruka blurted.

Kakashi plunged right on, “-it was kind of on a whim, I think-” 

“A whim?”

“-and there aren’t many people’s houses I can crash at four in the morning, you know-”

“So what makes you think you can crash _mine_?”

“-since I received the mission approximately an hour before that-”

“You actually weren’t purposefully late?!”

“-and it’s supposed to be quite urgent-”

“ _Urgent?”_

“-and you were the first one I thought of-”

Iruka could only splutter at that.

“-so I picked you.” Kakashi nodded sagely at the end.

Iruka took a deep breath. And panicked.

“If it’s ‘supposed to be quite urgent’, as you mentioned, then why are we here _strolling?!_ ”

“Maa, maa, calm down, sensei,” the silver-haired man looked supremely unruffled, “it’s fine.”

“What part of this is fine?” Iruka flung an arm out, encompassing everything in ‘this’.

Kakashi had the nerve to look thoughtful again. The chuunin was genuinely considering the advantages of bashing Kakashi into the ground, ranks and mission be damned.

“For starters,” the jounin held up a hand in a vaguely placating gesture, “we actually left early.”

Iruka gaped.

“And secondly, my ninken are already on it.”

Iruka couldn’t believe the chronically tardy and irresponsible jounin was actually _doing something_. (Other than read his little orange books, of course.) It was like- like- Sasuke clutching a litter of kittens to his chest and declaring that he'd use them to avenge his clan! Actually, wait, Iruka really had walked in on that particular scene before. Of course, the ten-year-old Sasuke had been fearsomely embarrassed and defensive, and even come up with the crazy theory that the kittens could scratch his older brother into submission. Or something.

That was quickly made irrelevant, however, when an insect that was buzzing appreciatively around the two of them suddenly attempted forced entry into Iruka's mouth. He wisely snapped it shut with an audible click.

After a long moment, Iruka finally closed his eyes with a long-suffering sigh and rubbed his hands over his face. “Alright,” he said with false calm, “any other bombs to drop before I pinch myself to confirm that this isn’t a dream?’’

Kakashi began to shake his head no, before an extremely smug expression slowly crawled across his face.

“No bombs left,” he said, smirking, with hands held up before him as though guarding against an upcoming attack, “unless I drop _you._ ”

Iruka’s jaw fell open once more, and entirely by reflex, he slammed a fist onto the jounin’s head. As Kakashi yelped and leapt back, nursing his new bump and muttering something about Icha Icha and how it didn’t work out half as well when the person wasn’t actually in your arms, Iruka punched himself in the face.

“Ow,” he groaned in dismay as pain blossomed from the general area of his head, and contemplated that a potentially broken nose was not beneficial to a mission at all. 

In an instant, Kakashi was by his side, eye lingering worriedly on his bloody nose even while scanning their surroundings for enemies. He was already whispering battle formations and thinking up strategies under his breath, but Iruka ignored him.

“Oh no,” he said mournfully, “I’m actually alive.”

He proceeded to wallow in some well-deserved self-pity and bury his face in his hands, until they were covered in a certain warm, red substance. Then he decided that he had better bandage himself up a bit before he died or something.

It was convenient to simply ignore the frantically paranoid Kakashi still looking out for threats. That is, right up until he nearly killed a frightened little bunny when it jumped out of a bush.

Iruka, being the protector of all things small (and preferably cute), did not hesitate to punch the jounin again. And this time right in the face.

“That,” the chuunin pointed at the other’s rapidly bleeding nose, “was what happened to me.”

Kakashi sent him a sorrowful look. Iruka beamed back at him.

 _Revenge_ , he decided, _is_ sweet.


End file.
